CIVIL WAR BETWEEN CÆSAR AND POMPEY.

The way in which Cæsar was situated with regard to the republic at the

end of his time in Gaul, was indeed so unhappy, that it was not in the

power of man to bring matters to a good and joyful issue. If it was

difficult even for Scipio, after his victory, to live as a citizen, and

he did not quite know how to conduct himself; how much more for a man

who, for nearly ten years, had been used to rule over vast tracts of

country with the absolute power of a prince. Such a habit is hard to get

rid of, as we may perceive in the less important things of our every-day

life, wherein the change from one situation to another is often fraught

with endless difficulties. All that Cæsar could have got lawfully, was a

second consulship: this, however, as affairs then stood, was nothing but

an empty honour; for what could he have done with himself and with the

republic? He could indeed have only employed his great intellectual

faculties by devoting himself in utter retirement to study. He had not

been in Rome for ten years; and all that he heard from thence from those

who came to him, was hateful to him, and showed him the government in a

contemptible light. To live on a footing of equality with inferior, and

some of them bad men, was what he could not think of without disgust.

Matters therefore were in such confusion, that they could not possibly

have righted. His opponents, instead of taking steps towards

reconciliation, showed, on the contrary, symptoms which must have vexed

him to the utmost. M. Marcellus, the consul of the year 701, let slip no

occasion of annoying Cæsar: for instance, he had caused a man from Como,

to whom Cæsar, by virtue of the full powers given him, had granted the

citizenship, to be flogged like a common criminal, merely to insult and

mock at Cæsar. In the following year, C. Marcellus, a cousin of the

former, was consul with L. Æmilius Paullus, C. Scribonius Curio, being

also tribune at the same time. Of him we have still some letters among

those of Cicero: he was a young man of great talent, but of the most

consummate profligacy. At first, owing to his family connexions, he

belonged to Pompey’s party; and he was then considered as even a decided

and very bitter enemy of Cæsar. But Cæsar knew that Curio was over head

and ears in debt,—as much as two million dollars, we are told, which may

give us some measure of the magnitude of the Roman fortunes, as well as

of the vice and prodigality of the times,—and he is said to have gained

him over by paying his debts. He likewise bought over the consul Æmilius

Paullus with an immense sum: from this we may see what a mockery of a

government the system of provincial administration was. The accounts

were only given in after the triumph had been celebrated: this had been

the case since the earliest times, and it still remained so, even now

that the _imperia_ were held for such long periods. What the proconsul

had gotten for himself, was not thought worth looking into: he had

merely to show that he owed nothing to the army, and to account for what

the senate had placed at his disposal from the _ærarium_. Æmilius

Paullus built with those millions the Basilica Æmilia in the Forum, an

edifice to which those noble pillars undoubtedly belonged, which, as

Nibby supposes, stood in the Church of St. Paul until the calamitous

fire in the year 1823.[10] Curio was uncommonly clever and adroit, and

he put on an air of perfect impartiality: at first, he even sided

against Cæsar; then, against both Cæsar and Pompey; at last, he flung

off the mask, and declared for Cæsar.

With the next year, Cæsar’s proconsulship was to expire. He now, after a

lapse of ten years, stood for a second consulship, and asked for a

triumph beforehand; so that he might keep his army together, and disband

it when that was over, as Pompey had done after the war with

Mithridates. He wanted to be allowed to become a candidate at the

consular election while still in his province,—an irregularity which had

crept in during the seventh century,—and then to lead his army to Rome,

and triumph. To prevent such a thing, it had been the rule, we do not

know for how long, that no one who had an army should stand for the

consulship. His opponents therefore demanded that he should lay down the

_imperium_; disband his troops, that is to say, give up his triumph; and

stand for the consulship as a private person. Had he thus delivered

himself into the hands of his enemies, he was convinced that he would

have lost his life. Curio now moved that Cæsar and Pompey should both

disband their troops, and come to Rome as private persons; which was the

fairest proposal. But the friends of Pompey maintained that, as the term

of his _imperium_ was not yet come to an end, he ought not to be placed

on an equal footing with Cæsar. It was the misfortune of Italy that

Pompey, who was dangerously ill, did not then die: he was indeed so

popular, or so dreaded, that all Italy prayed for his recovery. Pompey

seemingly was ready to submit to the humiliation, though indeed he

complained bitterly of the slight put upon him. Curio’s motion was

carried by a majority of three hundred against about twenty;[11] but the

consul Marcellus cancelled the decree. The aristocrats of that day

professed to uphold the decrees of the senate, whereas in reality they

wanted to rule the senate with a rod of iron; and so they did not even

scorn the help of the rabble, being in every sense of the word

_populaciers_, if it suited their ends: they would raise an outcry

against rebellion, and yet they were the rankest revolutionists, if

matters did not go on quite as they wished. Thus the party of Lamennais,

as soon as the government does anything that they dislike, at once begin

to preach regicide and revolution. I have heard men of the extreme right

in France talking like Jacobins, uttering it as their opinion that the

people of the very lowest class were gifted with an immense deal of

sense, and that they showed the highest interest in the welfare of the

country. Curio also did not make his proposal from any good motive: this

he cannot have credit for, being one of those to whom the worst

confusion is the most welcome state of things.

The next year, the tribunes were all of them the hireling creatures of

Cæsar; and among these was he who was afterwards the frightful triumvir

Antony. Pompey had received the command of Italy, and been authorized by

the senate to raise an army for its safety, which, however, he was too

indolent to do. On the first of January, in the year 703, the

distribution of the provinces was again discussed in the senate; and as

Pompey had troops in the city, it was decreed under his influence, that

Cæsar should lay down his _imperium_. The tribunes protested; but so far

was their protest from being heeded, that they were even threatened with

personal violence by the consuls: having perhaps magnified the danger,

they fled to Cæsar at Ravenna, on the frontier of the province of Gaul.

Cispadane Gaul had, at that time already got the Roman franchise; but it

belonged notwithstanding to Cæsar’s province. At Rome, Pompey and his

friends swallowed the most absurd reports. It was said that Cæsar’s army

was most highly disaffected, that it wanted to be disbanded; that it was

weak in numbers; that it was worn out by wars:—in short they believed

whatever they wished. Cæsar had in those parts not more than five

thousand men with him, partly in order not to alarm the province, partly

because he did not wish to strip Gaul of troops; now, at length, he gave

orders that every one should march. What is indeed most inconceivable,

is that the Gauls were now quite still, and did not move, whereas they

had revolted when they had ten legions to keep them down: they very

likely thought that the Romans would themselves destroy each other.

Cæsar had before that already given up two legions, which were to go to

Syria. Even at the end of the year, he was still negociating: he had

offered to retain the command of Illyricum and Gallia Cispadana only,

with two legions, or even one alone, on the sole condition that Pompey

should likewise resign his _imperium_. All was, however, rejected:

Pompey was to be left entirely out of the question, and the letter of

the law was to be carried out. Now that the tribunes had arrived at

Ravenna, the _senatus consultum_ was brought, in which Cæsar was ordered

to come to Rome, and to give up his army to Domitius Ahenobarbus: this

made him afraid of being prosecuted as soon as ever he came to Rome by

himself. Passion then got the better of him, and he resolved upon

starting for Ariminum. It is probably on the other side of Ariminum, in

the neighbourhood of Cesena, that the bridge over the Rubicon was: the

people about these places disagree as to which of the small rivers was

the Rubicon. He was still wavering, not knowing whether he should

sacrifice himself, or violate the law and save his life; for even then

he seems to have thought much more of his safety than of dominion. There

he stood in deep emotion, until he made up his mind to cross the river.

Thus he arrived at Ariminum, which had opened its gates to him. In all

that part of the country, nothing was prepared against him: people

fancied that the times had not changed; and that the troops would

abandon Cæsar, and go over to Pompey, because the latter had formerly

been so popular with them. But Pompey had had his day; Cæsar’s soldiers

even shared the emulation of their general, and were proud of their

victories. There is not a more remarkable contrast than that which

thirty years had brought about. Sylla’s war had lasted even to the third

year, and throughout Italy the two parties were struggling most fiercely

against each other; but now, there was not a man who cared so much as to

raise his hand. Cæsar’s small army overran the whole of Italy, without

meeting with any resistance, as would also happen in these days: the

habits of the municipal towns were at that time quite as unwarlike as

those of modern Italy. It may have had something to do with it, that

Sylla’s legions in the military colonies were no longer inclined to such

a civil war: from party motives, they ought in fact to have sided with

Pompey; but it was perhaps the great general whom they liked best. What,

however, turned the scale, was the utter want of any thing like public

feeling: people no longer felt any interest either for one party or the

other, as they were perfectly aware that there was now no regard for

law, and that matters could not become much worse; and to lose life and

limb for Pompey’s sake alone, was what they were by no means willing to

do. Pompey had hoped to make an effect upon the people by high sounding

words, and to pass off shadows for realities: no soldier’s heart could

have beaten for him, as it might indeed for Cæsar. He had given himself

airs as if he could have raised legions by stamping on the ground; but

when he heard that Cæsar was already marching on the Via Flaminia, he as

well as the senators had no other thought but that of flight. They had

only a small army under the command of Domitius Ahenobarbus, the one who

was to have taken Cæsar’s province. The latter now reached Rome without

any further check. A short time before, Cicero had returned from

Cilicia, and he was now the mediator of a peace; but although his

counsels were the very justest and wisest, no one would listen to him.

Pompey’s party took it into their heads, that at present it was much

better not to defend themselves at Rome; that they ought by all means to

let Cæsar make himself hateful in Italy; and that Pompey, whose

lieutenants, M. Petreius and Afranius, were in possession of Spain,

should draw all his forces (seven legions) thence, and concentrate them

in Greece, and call to his aid all the moneyed resources of the east:

Spain and Africa were theirs; Gaul would likewise declare against Cæsar;

and the reaction could not fail to come. Thus they calculated very

nicely, how they were to crush Cæsar in Italy. Pompey now went to

Brundusium, and with him all the troops which had not fallen off. L.

Domitius was besieged by Cæsar in Corfinium, on which his men made a

capitulation for themselves. Cæsar gladly took most of them into his own

army, and allowed the rest to go whithersoever they liked; thus leaving

every one the choice of rising for him or keeping quiet. Domitius was

completely deserted. At Rome, Cæsar was waited for with fear and

trembling. Pompey had declared that whosoever was not with him, was

against him; and every one who wished to stay in Rome, was threatened by

his partisans with prosecution and proscription after the victory. From

Cicero’s letters, one may see the monstrous way in which the Pompeians

wanted to tyrannize over the opinions of the people.

Cæsar went from Corfinium to Brundusium. Pompey had wanted to keep this

town, that he might have an arsenal, and a landing-place in Italy; and

he hoped that his rival would not venture upon besieging it. Cæsar had

hardly a ship, while Pompey, who was master of the east, had at his

command the whole of the seafaring part of the world then known. The

latter had collected his fleet in the harbour of Brundusium, where Cæsar

attacked him with such resolution, that, having the open sea behind him,

and ships at hand, he was obliged to withdraw from the place, and to

betake himself to Illyricum. This was of great importance to Cæsar, as

Brundusium was faithful to the Syllanian interest, which Pompey

represented. Cæsar now had the treasury at Rome forced open, as the keys

had been put out of the way: he took out the money, nominated

magistrates, and dealt as an absolute monarch with the opposition of

those who, like the tribune Metellus, wanted to play the farce of

liberty. The people of the capital now expected scenes like those which

had been witnessed in the time of his uncle Marius; but whoever chose to

trust him was quite safe: he did not even utter a bitter word against

any one. But it was not the same in Italy, whenever he could not be

present; for his soldiers, and not a few of his officers, committed a

great number of outrages, owing to which the feelings of many were

turned against him. With his wonted great activity, after having

arranged at Rome all that was to be settled, he went through the south

of Gaul to Spain, where the generals did not even march to meet him, or

block up the way over the Pyrenees. His army was far less than that of

his opponents, which consisted of seven legions; and he even left part

of it behind for the siege of Marseilles, that city having wanted to

keep neutral. He may have had some particular reason to be hard upon it,

and perhaps he still bore it an old grudge: he now called upon it to

declare for him, and on its refusal, he detached two legates to attack

the place. The description of this siege in the second book of the

_Bellum Civile_ is very interesting, as it shows us the system then in

use, which was very different from the Greek one. After a long siege,

and not till Cæsar’s return from Spain, the Massilians were forced to

surrender. Cæsar did not destroy the town, nor was he guilty of any

outrage against it; but the inhabitants had to give up their arms, and

had long to suffer the loss of their freedom. The triumph over the

Massilians is one of the most shameful things ever done, as they had

always been the staunch allies of the Romans.

Afranius and Petreius made a stand against Cæsar near Lerida in

Catalonia, and he had to employ the whole of his art, the victory which

he gained being properly speaking, a moral one: he caused such a

desertion in their army, that they were obliged to treat. Afranius, a

commonplace man, was for coming to terms, but Petreius spurned the very

thought: he even inflicted heavy punishments on the soldiers who wanted

to place themselves in communication with Cæsar. This was, however, of

no avail: he saw that the legions would desert him altogether. The two

leaders therefore made a capitulation for themselves, and for M. Varro,

by which they agreed to evacuate the whole of Spain; and they were

allowed to go free with those who did not wish to serve under Cæsar,

which, however, most of the men did. Thus Cæsar became master of the

whole of Spain.

Cato had left Sicily, of which he had had the government as prætor, and

Curio had taken the command there. The latter went from thence to

Africa, where he was opposed by the Pompeian general Varus, and by Juba

king of Mauritania, a client of Pompey. This expedition of Curio’s came

to a sad end, partly owing to the desertion which broke out among his

legions, partly owing to his unskilful generalship, and to various

disasters. Curio at last was killed in a battle with Juba, and most of

his soldiers were scattered and cut to pieces: some of them made their

escape to Sicily. Cæsar had nominated himself dictator; in what form,

cannot be made out with certainty, there being much discrepancy in the

accounts which we have. He did everything as expeditiously as possible,

and he passed several welcome and just laws. Among others was one

concerning debts; a thing which is always necessary whenever there is an

extraordinary fall in the value of every kind of property, so that a

debt in money ceases to be what its nominal value expresses. A

commission was appointed, before which all who had land in Italy might

have it estimated, and thus made available to pay off their debts. This

was often done under such circumstances; and no doubt the statement is

also true that the interest was deducted. A number of other enactments

were also made to meet the wants of the moment. And now that he had

brought his army back to Italy, and considerably strengthened it by

forming the troops which had gone over to him into legions, he marched

forthwith to Brundusium. It was already about a year since Pompey had

left Rome, and had gathered around him all the Romans whom he had been

able to gain over: he had moreover an immense host of auxiliaries, and a

fleet with which, as Cæsar had nothing to oppose to it, he might have

been master of the sea, had not his lieutenants been so wretched. He

wintered in Thessalonica, and his army in Macedon: his chief strength

lay in his fleet, as the people of Rhodes and other places, and also

many of the subject Greek towns still kept up their ships:—even the

whole naval power of Egypt was at his disposal. Having collected all

this force, he placed it under the command of Bibulus, Cæsar’s colleague

in the consulship; and thus he hoped to make the passage by sea

impracticable for Cæsar, so that he would have to go by land through

Dalmatia, where he would have had to encounter M. Octavius, Pompey’s

best general. But in this also, Cæsar tried to strike awe into the

enemy, and he succeeded: to reach Illyricum, he was not afraid to use

whatever vessels he had, or anything that could only float upon the sea.

Bibulus was an able man, personally very praiseworthy, who did not

neglect his duty, but he was deficient in that peculiar activity and

watchfulness which in such cases are indispensable. One of the

distinguishing features of Cæsar is that, whenever the utmost speed was

necessary, though his forces were not quite complete, he would, without

even a moment’s loss of time, at once strike the blow with whatever he

chanced to have at hand; and he would try and gain a firm footing until

he had collected the whole of his army. Thus he passed over to

Illyricum; and thus he afterwards made his appearance in Egypt without

the force which could support him, and later again in Africa: this is

one of the marks of a great general, who calculates not only what he

risks, but likewise what he can effect by it. Quite unexpectedly, he

appeared with a small squadron at Oricum, a town on the farthest borders

of Illyricum and Epirus, behind the bay of Acroceraunia; he landed,

reduced the place, and immediately set out to attack Apollonia, which

opened its gates to him. His name went before him, nor did any one

suppose that he had only a few thousand men with him. Near Apollonia, he

took up a position; but when an attempt of his against Dyrrachium had

failed, Pompey tried to drive him back and to surround him. As Cæsar’s

orders to send the troops immediately after him had not been fulfilled,

he tried in this dilemma himself to cross, in a twelve-oared boat, over

the dangerous, stormy sea; but after having struggled for a whole day

against the currents and the waves, he was at last obliged to yield to

the storm. Although his commands to follow him were most peremptory, his

lieutenant Gabinius, whose heart failed him, disregarded them: he went

round the gulf through Dalmatia, where he was afterwards routed by

Octavius, and slain. Mark Antony, on the contrary, who ventured to pass

over, led the troops most successfully close by Pompey’s fleet; for

Bibulus had a short time before fallen ill, and he was now on the point

of death. Thus did Antony, with the loss of only a few ships, make his

passage to Illyricum. But for all that, Cæsar’s force was far inferior

to that of Pompey, who was stationed near Dyrrachium; and yet he

advanced against him, and ventured to hem him in by throwing up lines

and bastions round Dyrrachium. This was an undertaking which Pompey

could very easily let him go on with; for he got his supplies by sea,

while Cæsar had no other provisions but those which he could collect by

forays into the neighbouring country. Here Cæsar tried to finish the

war; but he was unsuccessful, being repulsed with considerable loss in a

coup de main against Dyrrachium: Pompey showed determination, and made

himself master of part of the lines, so that the blockade had to be

given up. The soldiers were so disheartened that day, that Cæsar

despaired of the issue: they were certainly in a wretched plight, as

they had to feed on grass and roots. Grass means here as much as salad:

the poor in the south very often eat such herbs with vinegar and oil,

which indeed the soldiers had to do without. Cæsar afterwards said, that

he would have been routed on that day; and that Pompey would have

conquered, if he had known how to make use of his victory. But Pompey

had grown sluggish, and he had lost the faculty of doing anything to

justify the pretensions which he put forth. After this rebuff, Cæsar was

unable to go on with the war there any more; and so he ventured upon an

expedition which, had it failed, would quite as much have been classed

among fool-hardy freaks as the march of Charles XII. to Pultawa. Leaving

Pompey in his rear, he betook himself to a country where he had nothing

to rely upon, but every inch of ground to conquer: he broke up from

Dyrrachium. No doubt Pompey expected that he would now turn towards

Illyricum, and there unite himself with the troops of his party: but far

from doing this, he went to the high mountain ranges between Epirus and

Thessaly, and without stopping, to Gomphi, near the pass from Janina to

Thessaly, and took it by storm. By this means, he restored the

confidence of his soldiers, as they refreshed themselves with the booty.

The panic caused by the destruction of this town, opened to him the

whole of Thessaly. Pompey, who had such a superior force of soldiers,

ought now to have gone to Italy; and the more so, as those legions of

Cæsar’s which had been formed of the troops which had gone over to him

in Spain, had partly become mutinous again, while Cæsar, with the fleet

which he had, could never have reached Italy. But those who were about

Pompey, were now so full of joy at Cæsar’s having got into a trap by

going into countries from which he had no way out, that they went after

him. Terror, however, paved the way for Cæsar: he was quite comfortably

off in luxurious Thessaly, and having everything in plenty, he was

enabled to recover himself. He took up his position near the rich town

of Pharsalus, where for some days the two armies were facing each other,

and manœuvring: he again got into a very bad plight, as he was in want

of provisions, and Pompey’s cavalry was much stronger than his own. Here

again it was now the opinion of the cautious, that Cæsar’s army should

be allowed to wear itself out more and more by the distress in which it

was; and this was the opinion of Pompey himself. But his followers were

so childishly intoxicated with their hopes of victory, that they looked

upon this judicious advice as disgraceful. The senators, who knew

nothing whatever of war, deliberated with regard to the battle, how they

would after the victory divide the advantages among themselves; and

growing warm, they quarrelled together about who was to have the

pontificate and the other offices of Cæsar, and also the estates of his

partisans about to be proscribed. Cæsar was very anxious for a speedy

decision, being most confident of victory; for he despised Pompey, such

as he was then, and all his officers, They, on their side, deemed it a

shame to delay the battle; and they forced it on in such haste, that

Cæsar had hardly time to call back three legions which he had sent out

to forage.

Of this battle there are very different accounts, the best of which of

course is that of Cæsar himself; but we may believe Asinius Pollio that

the numbers which he gives are exaggerated. We may take it for granted,

that Cæsar had no more than twenty-two thousand infantry against forty

thousand infantry of Pompey, who had also an immense number of Greeks

and Asiatics as _auxilia_: these, however, were of no use whatever,

being somewhat ashamed to display their incapacity on a field where

Romans were arrayed against each other. In cavalry also, Pompey was far

superior to Cæsar in numbers; but the latter had Gallic and German

horse, whilst Pompey had young Roman volunteers, who perhaps faced an

enemy for the first time, and were like children against a host of

veterans. The story of the _faciem feri, miles!_ is not to be taken

literally. Cæsar had also trained his infantry to stand the shock of the

cavalry, and the onset of the Pompeians was repulsed by the cohorts; he

then made the Gallic and German cavalry charge the enemy, which decided

the battle: they broke Pompey’s left wing, so that his right, which

until then had fought with considerable success, was likewise forced to

retire. All fled into the camp, and there these foolish men believed

that the day was now over. But when they saw that the foe did not stop

at all to plunder, and that in close order they were attacking the camp,

the greatest confusion and rout ensued; Pompey started up like a madman,

and calling out, “Not even here will they leave us quiet!” ran away. All

dispersed, no one thinking of rallying so much as one cohort. The booty

was immense, as the camp of Pompey was found to be furnished with

Asiatic luxury; the tents were bowers, fitted up with carpets and costly

furniture. The Gauls and Germans gladly availed themselves of the

opportunity to revenge themselves on the Romans: but Cæsar had already

issued an order during the battle, that no one should be hurt who did

not flee nor offer any resistance; and thus most of them threw away

their arms, and whole cohorts surrendered. It is known from Foggini’s

Kalendarium, that the battle was fought on the tenth of August,[12]

according to the calendar of that time: this cannot indeed be the real

day, which at all events ought to be dated in June.

Pompey fled to Larissa, and having got on board a ship, arrived at

Mitylene, where his wife Cornelia was staying: his intention was to go

to Cilicia and Cyprus, and from thence to the Parthians, a most shameful

resolution! This, however, was opposed by his friends, and he saw no

other plan, but to flee to Egypt. The right thing would have been to

have gone to his fleet which was still untouched, and with it to

maintain Africa; but his spirit was quite broken, and he determined to

apply to the king of Egypt. Ptolemy Auletes, whom Gabinius had restored

with Pompey’s connivance, was dead: as he was under obligations to

Pompey, he had sent him a fleet, which, however, had now returned home

after the battle. He had left two daughters, Cleopatra and Arsinoë, and

two sons, who were younger: one of these had somewhat passed boyhood,

while the other was still a child. The elder of the sons was by his

will, according to the custom of incest which was rife among those

Macedonian kings of Alexandria, to marry his eldest sister Cleopatra,

and to rule with her in common; but being very imperious, and wanting to

have everything for himself, he expelled her, and war broke out. She

fled to Syria; and on the borders of Syria and Egypt, near Mount Casius,

Ptolemy also, with his guardians Pothinus and Achillas was encamped.

Pompey’s unlucky star brought him to this very coast. On this, L.

Septimius, who had been left by Gabinius as commander in Egypt, advised

Ptolemy to murder Pompey, and by this sacrifice to bribe Cæsar to give

him the crown of Egypt. Such advice was quite to the taste of those

Alexandrian rulers. L. Septimius was sent with a boat to go out and

receive Pompey. Though all his companions had their suspicions roused,

and he himself felt uneasy, yet Pompey was so entirely without a will of

his own, and so stupified, that after all he chose to go into the boat:

there he was stabbed, and his corpse was cast unburied on the strand.

Cæsar, continuing his pursuit without stopping, hastened with a few

followers to Egypt; another great piece of daring! On his arrival, they

brought him the head and ring of Pompey: history has not forgotten his

tears. I will not deny that this death saved him from some anxiety; for

how could he have made peace with Pompey?—the war could not end in any

other way, but with his destruction;—yet for all that, judging from the

disposition of Cæsar’s heart, I believe that his tears were sincere. He

buried Pompey: to have erected a monument would have looked like a

farce; but his family raised a small, humble monument over him. The name

of the Pompeii still existed to the time of Tiberius; then it

disappears. The emperor Hadrian found the statue taken away, and set up

in a neighbouring temple, the monument itself being nearly buried in the

sand; and he had it restored. An epigram on the subject, consisting of

two distichs, is one of the most beautiful left us from antiquity: it is

certainly genuine, although the second half has been called in question.

Marmoreo tumulo Licinus[13] jacet, at Cato nullo,

Pompeius parvo: credimus esse Deos?

Saxa premunt Licinum, levat altum fama Catonem,

Pompeium tituli: credimus esse Deos.

Cæsar now went to Alexandria whither his troops were to follow him; but

his orders could not be carried across to Rhodes, as in the

Mediterranean the Etesian gales blow from the north-west for about fifty

or sixty days, until the dogdays, and the ships could not work their way

against the wind. In the meanwhile, Cæsar had to stay in Alexandria

among the most insolent and licentious populace in the world, one in

which the vices of the east and the west were combined: the Macedonian

Greek population had been mostly exterminated in the reign of Ptolemy

Physcon, and the Alexandrine-Egyptians only remained, who were a

detestable race. This rabble now became bold: as Cæsar had only so few

with him, the eunuch Pothinus, the regent at that time, resolved to

overpower him. Cæsar was in possession of the royal palace, where he

entrenched himself as Ferdinand Cortez did in Mexico. An insurrection

broke out; and the palace was set fire to, on which occasion the library

of Ptolemy Philadelphus was burnt: the struggle in the streets was

terrific. The account of how Cæsar then maintained himself,—making head

against the immense danger which assailed him; destroying the entrance

to the harbour to the dismay of the Alexandrians; taking the island of

Pharos, and holding his ground there until he got reinforcements;—is

given by Hirtius in a most graphic and attractive style. At last, Cæsar

succeeded in making himself master of Alexandria, and the elder Ptolemy

was accidentally drowned in the Nile: in short, the Alexandrians

surrendered, and Cæsar, glad to have done with the war, declared

Cleopatra queen, by whose arts he had been enslaved, and bestowed upon

her the whole of the country.

Having now learned that Pharnaces king of Bosporus had invaded Pontus,

and defeated Domitius, one of his legates; he hastened thither, attacked

the enemy on the very day that he came up, without even allowing his

troops to rest, and the Asiatics were routed and scattered. It was then

that he wrote to Rome the celebrated “_Veni, vidi, vici._”

Cæsar now, for the first time since his departure from Brundusium,

returned to Rome; and there he set many things to rights. He paid great

regard to his adherents, and also appointed a provisional government,

which was much wanted; for his party was a medley of all sorts of

people, who aimed at the most different ends and objects, and during his

absence had undertaken the most contradictory things. In the meanwhile,

the insurrection of Milo, Cælius Rufus, and Dolabella, had taken place,

and been quickly put down: of this I shall say more further on.

He did not wait long at Rome. Servility proffered him the next

extravagant honours; the whole power of the state was given him. Yet it

must be said that men’s minds were very favourably disposed towards him

on account of his unexpected mildness, whereas Pompey, had he been

victorious, would undoubtedly have shed seas of blood. As far as he

possibly could, he protected every one of the opposite party; and he

also told the chief men about him, that each of them had free leave to

rescue one of the proscribed, and all such were reinstated in their

honours: with respect to their property, however, these had much to

suffer, as it was not in his power to put a stop to all the robberies of

his partisans. A great number indeed, still remained in exile; yet by

degrees he let them all return.—The honours granted him by the senate,

were bestowed three different times: I shall treat of them collectively

when we come to his last stay in Rome.

While he was still at Rome, he had to deal with a most dangerous

commotion among his troops, who were eagerly waiting for their triumph.

His favourite legion, the tenth, which he had left behind in Italy that

he might take it with him to Africa, broke out in open mutiny; and the

veterans demanded, not only the payment of their arrears, but also the

money and allotments of land which had been promised them. Sallust, whom

Cæsar had sent to them, was ill-treated, and some senators were slain:

the danger therefore was great. Cæsar had then the courage to let them

come to Rome: he ordered them to lay aside their _pila_, but to keep

their swords; and now he fearlessly made his appearance in the midst of

them. When he harangued them in the Forum, his intrepidity, and the

confidence which he showed in them, made such an impression on them,

that they became quite tame. He treated them with contempt, addressed

them as Quirites, and announced to them that he dismissed them: he

would, however, allow those who wished to share the honour of the

campaign to enlist. Upon this, all those who before had been loudly

clamouring for their dismissal, almost with one voice entreated him to

let them continue in his service.

He again went with a small army to Africa, where Cato and Q. Scipio, the

father-in-law of Pompey, Afranius and Petreius, stood forth as the

leaders of the whole party. Cato had not been present at the battle of

Pharsalus: he had gone from Dyrrachium to Corcyra, and from thence to

Cyrene. Here he got together a number of scattered Romans; but his army

was much more distinguished for the rank, than for the bravery of its

soldiers. Cyrene had hardly the honour of being a Roman province; there

he was quite cut off from the rest of the world: he therefore made one

of the most dreadful of forced marches, through the African desert all

round the Syrtes, by Tripolis to the province of Africa. He was offered

the chief command of the army, which was a respectable one; but he

declined it, and only kept the command of Utica. Allied with him was

Juba of Numidia, who ruled over the greater part of Jugurtha’s empire:

in Mauritania, Bogud was king. In the latter country, there was also a

Roman adventurer, P. Sitius of Nuceria, a remarkable character, and a

man of great energy: he had formed a regiment of stray fugitives and

deserters, which had gotten king Bogud the victory against Juba, and the

ascendency in Africa. (I have treated of this Sitius in my edition of

Fronto.) He attached himself to Cæsar, who promised to restore him to

his civil rights; and he made war upon Juba, while Cæsar established

himself in Tunis. The latter, having gradually received the

reinforcements for which he was waiting, marched likewise against his

foes. The campaign lasted several months without being decided, until

Cæsar took his position near Thapsus, a peninsula with a fortified town.

The enemy under Petreius, Afranius, Scipio, and Juba, occupied the

isthmus, surrounding him with overwhelming numbers, and thus cutting him

off from the mainland. But Cæsar broke through, first defeated the

Romans, and then Juba, on the same day, and scattered their hosts. As

soon as the battle was won, the soldiers went over to him in throngs:

Juba was so utterly done for, that he fled from his kingdom. All was

lost: Juba and Petreius took away each other’s life; Cato remained

behind in Utica with a Roman garrison.

If there be indeed a great man in Roman history who deserves his fame,

it is Cato. Cæsar has tried to disparage his virtue; but this arose from

a pardonable feeling of irritation. After Cato’s death, Cicero wrote his

celebrated _laudatio M. Catonis_;—would to heaven that we had it still!

we should be able to discover from it Cicero’s inmost soul. This work

does great honour, as well to Cicero, for having had the courage to

write it, as to Cæsar for having borne with it: one sees how sincerely

people believed in Cæsar’s magnanimity. When Cæsar says that Cato had

harmed him by his death, as he had thus robbed him of the pleasure of

pardoning him, not a word can be added: on the other hand, one may

easily believe that Cæsar still felt hurt by Cicero’s eulogium. He

therefore wrote the Anti-Cato, in which he may have displayed a

bitterness of passion which in real life, he would certainly have as

little shown to Cicero as to Cato himself. There was nothing that he so

much wished for as Cato’s friendship, though indeed Cato could not have

given it him. The Stoic philosophy did not raise up any heroes among the

Greeks, except the great founders Zeno and Cleanthes himself; but while

not one Greek statesman professed it, among the Romans, all the great

and virtuous public men were either its disciples, or at least, like

Cicero, its admirers. It would be the most detestable misconstruing of

human virtue, to call Cato’s integrity in question; yet it is quite

another thing to say that Cato, with his principles and his philosophy,

did infinite harm to the commonwealth. He wanted stoutly to uphold every

existing institution, and to allow of nothing that bordered upon

arbitrary power. It is well known that Cato estranged the Roman knights

from the senate, and made enemies of them, thus tearing open the wound

which Cicero with very great difficulty had succeeded in closing: he

refused to grant the _publicani_ a request which was not at all an

unfair one, merely because he deemed that this would be favouring them.

This caused a breach which was never healed. On another occasion, Cato

was for voting the execution of Catiline and his accomplices; which was

quite in accordance with the laws, but a most unhappy measure for the

republic. He did not pay the least regard to existing circumstances, and

the consequence was, that he made them much worse. But his personal

character was above all blame: profligates might rail at him; but no one

dared to slander him, and in this he stood above those times.

Cato had found little happiness in his party, even when Pompey was

alive; and now that he was dead, his situation was quite wretched. They

were going on in Africa in the most savage manner, and it was with very

great trouble indeed that he saved Utica: they had wanted to plunder it,

on pretence of the inhabitants being friendly to Cæsar, but in reality

to preserve the goodwill of the soldiers. For this, the inhabitants of

Utica considered Cato as their saviour, and the town remained quiet, as

he had pledged himself that it should. When Cæsar appeared before Utica,

Cato advised every one not to prolong their resistance. The generals,

and those who were able to bear arms, had fled; so that the garrison

consisted mostly of old people and gentlemen of rank: he therefore

counselled them to throw themselves on Cæsar’s mercy, bidding even his

own son go out and do it. Here he in a fine manner showed himself

inconsistent, the father getting the better of the Stoic: he said that

he could not indeed live now, he who had seen the better days of the

republic; but that his son, who had never known the republic, might

embark in the new state of things. The night before the town was to open

its gates, he retired to his room and read the Phædo, surely not to find

in it the strengthening of his belief in the immortality of the soul,

and of his hopes:—of this he had no need; for as a Stoic he believed in

immortality, and moreover the Phædo itself does not give this faith to

those who have it not:—but as in terrible moments one must find

breathing-room for one’s feelings, so he sought for support in the

example of a great man, and he very likely was much more taken up with

that part of the work in which Socrates’ death is told. He took leave of

the world, turning his mind to the contemplation of the last hours of

one of the most virtuous men on earth.

He then gave himself the deadly wound. But he fell from the bed in the

agonies of death; and when his son and his friends tried to recover him,

having pretended to slumber, he tore the wound open, and let his bowels

gush out.—The reduction of the other towns was easy enough.

The son of Juba surrendered to Cæsar, and afterwards had such an

excellent education bestowed upon him at Rome, that he became one of the

most learned men of his time. As he undoubtedly was master of the Punic

language, the loss of his books on historical and geographical topics,

is very much to be regretted; for in the historical ones, he must have

given the substance of what the Carthaginians have written.

At Rome, there was a quarrel between Antony and Dolabella, the

son-in-law of Cicero, to whom he caused much grief: both of them were

equally bad. Cæsar therefore went thither, and quieted them. From thence

the successes of Cneius and Sextus, the sons of Pompey, again called him

away to Spain, whither these had betaken themselves from Africa, that

they might join a newly formed legion of his which had revolted.

Southern Spain had taken up arms for the Pompeians; but not with hearty

agreement among themselves, as in the days of Sertorius. This struggle

was by far the hardest of any which Cæsar had to go through; it is quite

extraordinary, how, when all was exhausted, the people now fought with a

rage which had not been seen until then. The beginning of this war may

be read in the barbarously written _Bellum Hispaniense_. After Cæsar had

been obliged for several months to put forth all the resources of his

mind, to carry on the war within a very limited area in Andalusia and

Grenada: the seat of the contest was chiefly in the exceedingly strong

fastnesses of the mountains north of Grenada. Cneius had the chief

command, and he showed himself here a far more able general than his

father had been. In the battle near Munda, the anniversary of which was

yesterday (March 17), Cæsar’s fate hung upon a thread: his troops were

breaking, and he was already giving up all for lost, when in his despair

he jumped from his horse, and placed himself in the way of the

fugitives, calling out to them that if they wished to flee, they should

cut him down, and not oblige him to outlive such a day. Suwarow behaved

very much in the same way at the battle of Kinburn, in the year 1787,

when his soldiers refused obedience in an undertaking which he had

ordered, because they thought themselves lost. As they now were flying,

he cried out to them, “Run, run, and leave your general to the Turks, as

a keepsake of your cowardice!” With the greatest trouble, Cæsar stopped

his soldiers; but thus he only restored the battle, and he owed his

victory to the Mauritanian auxiliaries, who attacked and plundered the

Pompeian camp, which was hardly guarded at all. For when Labienus

marched with a legion against them, to save the camp and drive them off,

the other troops, thinking this to be a retreat, fell back, but did not

run. Cæsar had, after the battle, to destroy them one by one: Cneius was

wounded and cut down; Sextus remained with the Celtiberians, among whom

he hid himself until the death of Cæsar, some time after which he once

more played his part in public life. It was several months before Cæsar

had reduced the whole of Spain.

On his return from Africa, Cæsar had already had a triumph of four days:

there was the Gallic triumph, the Pontic, the Egyptian, and the African

one over Juba, in which no Roman general was mentioned. He had now a

Spanish triumph, in which the Spanish towns were individually named. The

former one had highly pleased the Romans; but this one hurt their

feelings, notwithstanding all the presents given to the people and the

soldiers, as it was evidently a triumph over their fellow-citizens,

although none of them were named. Velleius Paterculus states the amount

of the treasures which Cæsar had brought in triumph to Rome, to have

been _sexies millies_ (six hundred million _sesterces_ = twenty millions

of Prussian dollars). This sum is not at all incredible: even if Cæsar

gave to every soldier twenty thousand _sesterces_ (nearly seven hundred

dollars), and for all these presents spent even as much as thirty or

forty million dollars, which are to be added to that sum, the account is

indeed by no means unlikely. But Appian as he is generally understood,

states a sum which is quite enormous, even six and a half myriads of

talents, which would be a hundred million dollars. But here we are not

to think of Attic, but Egyptian, that is to say, copper talents; and

thus, though the whole amount does not indeed quite agree with what

Velleius tells us, there is no longer any exaggeration. Justus Lipsius

did not know how to reconcile this discrepancy.

Cæsar returned in October 707. The last five months of his life were

spent partly in his preparations for a Parthian war, and partly in

making a number of arrangements in civil affairs: even as early as his

return from Africa he had regulated the calendar, and thus done away

with a source of intolerable favouritism. In the last times of the

republic, it was quite a usual thing to intercalate a month at pleasure

by a mere ordinance. Curio in fact had fallen out with the senate,

because he too wanted to have a month intercalated for himself, and the

pontiff refused.

It is one of the inestimable advantages of legitimate, hereditary,

time-honoured, and unquestioned government, whatever may be its form,

that it may sometimes outwardly remain inactive when the state is

concerned. As in most cases it interferes only where it is absolutely

necessary, and it seems to let things take their own course, it meddles

very little with people’s affairs; and thus it is also able to allow a

much higher degree of individual liberty. A government, on the other

hand, which is called a usurpation, and is but newly established, has

not only to try and hold its own, but also, in all that it undertakes,

it has to prove its inherent right to govern, and to establish its

reputation. Those who are placed in such a position, are forced to act

from a most grievous necessity; and if this was the case with any one,

it was with Cæsar. What could he have undertaken in the centre of the

empire? Modern governments may do many things of which the ancients had

no notion; and indeed that much cried down, and in many respects baneful

system of centralization has still this good effect, that it gives the

activity of rulers a wider range. There remained in truth no measures to

be carried out by Cæsar, either in Italy or in the provinces; and as he

had for fifteen years been accustomed to the most prodigious exertions,

he was now as it were in a state of sloth, unless he could employ

himself abroad: he must undertake something which would engage his whole

soul; rest he no longer could. His first thought was war, and that in

countries where since the time of Alexander, the most brilliant military

glory was to be earned,—where the unburied bones of the legions of

Crassus were still to be revenged,—against the Parthians. The Getæ also

had spread in Thrace, and Cæsar wanted likewise to check them. But his

grand design was to destroy the empire of the Parthians, and to extend

that of the Romans as far as India; and in this he would undoubtedly

have not been unsuccessful. He already felt so near the result, that he

began to think of what was to be done afterwards; and therefore we may

consider the statement as a very likely one, that he then meant to march

through the defiles of the Caucasus and ancient Sythia into the land of

the Getæ, and to return through Germany and Gaul. These plans of his had

all of them a gigantic range: he had other projects besides which were

quite as grand. The harbour of Ostia was bad, and large sea-going

vessels could not come up the river; he is therefore said to have

intended to cut a canal from the Tiber, above or below the city, and

through the Pontine marshes as far as Terracina, which should be

navigable for large ships to sail up to Rome. He likewise undertook many

things which were done at once; so much indeed, that we hardly

understand how he could have accomplished the whole of it during the

five months which he had still to live. The veterans having now retired,

he followed Sylla’s unfortunate precedent, and founded a number of

colonies for them throughout Italy: the old soldiers of Sylla, or their

children, were many of them driven out, thus reaping the reward of their

own cruelty, or that of their fathers, to the inhabitants of the

_municipia_. In Southern Gaul, Corinth, and Carthage, he likewise

established colonies again. Corinth, however, was a _colonia

libertinorum_, a thing which it is not easy to account for: everything

in the place remained a medley, and it has never risen since to any real

prosperity. He also wanted to cut through the isthmus, a plan which I

cannot quite understand; owing to the state in which hydraulic

architecture was then. The work might indeed have been executed by means

of a succession of locks. That these, however, were employed in great

canal works among the ancients, we have no proof; yet they were known to

them. They were brought to their present perfection, as late as in the

fifteenth century, by the Netherlanders.

With regard to the state, he enacted several measures; among others,

that of restoring the _jus honorum_ to the children of those whom Sylla

had proscribed. He had received from the senate the dictatorship for

life, the consulship for ten years, and the right of filling up at once

half the offices which the centuries had to give, and recommending for

the other half those whom he wished to be nominated; so that henceforth

the election was a mere sham. The tribes still had their elections free.

Moreover, he made several laws for the relief of debtors, and such like

purposes. He raised the number of the prætors to ten, and afterwards to

sixteen; that of the quæstors to forty, which was now more than was

wanted for filling up the vacancies of the senate: this he had also

enlarged, though how much is uncertain.[14] He gave the citizenship to

whom he pleased, and he chose into the senate whom he pleased; so that

he filled it with his partisans, which caused much dissatisfaction. Yet

it is a striking fact, that at the time of his death, the majority of

the senate did not consist of Cæsarians. It is moreover very remarkable,

that in all his measures there is no trace to be found of his ever

having wanted to modify the constitution, and to put an end to anarchy;

for all his changes are in reality but trifling. Sylla meant to do this:

it is true that he did not attain his end, and the way in which he set

about it was most stupid; but he at least felt the need of it. Cæsar

seems not even to have thought upon a remedy for the evil: for his

increasing by a special edict the number of the patricians, and his

adding new patrician families to the old ones, is a case which has no

connexion whatever with the constitution. He did not admit a whole

_gens_ into the patrician order, but individuals only and their

children; just as one is ennobled in our days. This had no other object

than to provide for the filling up of the priestly offices: the new

_ædiles Cereales_ even remained limited to the _plebs_. Had Cæsar died

in peace, the state would have been in the same disorganization, as if

he had never lived; perhaps it would have been still worse off. His

sound sense and his powerful understanding told him, that the solution

of the problem was not so easy as Sylla had dreamed; that, on the

contrary, it was very difficult, the first condition being that he

should become a prince, a condition which of course would seem quite

intolerable even in the eyes of many of his partisans, who were quite

ready to go on with him as fellow-rebels. And in Cicero’s books _de

Republica_, we may remark throughout his conviction that the Rome of his

day could not possibly remain any longer as it was, and that it wanted a

king; yet Cicero undoubtedly said to himself the whole time, that no one

would listen to his advice.

The title of king had a great charm for Cæsar, as it has had indeed for

many a practical man, Cromwell among others. It was so managed that when

Cæsar at the Lupercalia had seated himself on the _suggestum_, Antony

offered him the diadem, to see how the people would take it; but Cæsar

made a show of declining it, as the people were alarmed, and thereupon a

general shout of applause and praise burst forth, which now made it

impossible for him to do what he wished. Antony then had the diadem put

upon the statue of Cæsar; two of the tribunes, however, Cæsetius Flavus

and Epidius Marullus, took it down. Cæsar’s real feelings now betrayed

themselves; for, he looked upon this as a personal insult, and having

lost all command of himself, wanted to have them arrested: the least

that he could be prevailed upon to do, was to deprive them of their

office and banish them. This made an immense sensation. On the other

hand, he had himself committed a fault, perhaps from absence of mind.

When the senate issued those extravagant decrees which conferred upon

him unlimited power, and a deputation from the whole body now brought

them to him, he neglected to rise from the curule chair, and saluted

them but very slightly. This want of courtesy people did not forgive,

who had granted to Cæsar everything that he could have wished, but still

expected some sort of acknowledgment in return. Cicero, who certainly

was no democrat, wrote soon afterwards, _turpissimi consulares, turpis

senatus, populus fortis, infimus quisque honore fortissimus_. The first

part of this is true, the latter part exaggerated.

During the last year of Cæsar’s life, Brutus and Cassius were prætors,

both of whom had formerly been among the leaders of Pompey’s party.

Brutus was a nephew of Cato. Livia, the mother of the latter, had, after

the death of her first husband, married Servilius Cæpio; so that

Servilia was Cato’s half-sister: Servilia was a profligate woman,

unworthy of her son and brother, and she did not even care for the

honour of her own daughter. Brutus indeed had very few eminent persons

in his family after it had become plebeian. In the first years after the

Licinian law, some Junii are to be found in the Fasti; but they are not

above mediocrity: at a later period, the family had become truly

contemptible. M. Brutus especially disgraced his house: after having

carried on the business of an informer (_accusationes factitabat_), and

acted a vile part in the time of Marius, he was put to death by Pompey

in Gaul. Thus, although indeed no Roman family was so illustrious as to

its _gens_, Brutus was by no means one of those who have been raised by

great and fortunate circumstances. The training of his youth had,

however, much effect upon him: his uncle Cato, whose daughter Porcia he

afterwards married,—it is uncertain whether this was still in Cato’s

lifetime,—had devoted him from a child to the Stoic philosophy, as if it

were a religion. Besides this, he had qualities in which Cato was

wanting, who had a certain scrupulosity and puritanism about him. Brutus

was free from such qualms as these; he had also a finer and more

versatile mind, not only endowed by nature with the happiest gifts, but

likewise highly cultivated. Cato was not one of the distinguished

orators, which Brutus certainly was; and had the latter lived longer, he

would undoubtedly have been one of the first writers of Rome. Cicero had

quite a fatherly affection for him; he saw in him a man who, he hoped,

would one day become the head and heart of the state.[15] Cæsar’s

attention also had been drawn to Brutus whom he had known and loved from

a child: it is indeed quite natural that he should have shown fondness

for so extraordinary and so amiable a mind; for he had as little of the

feeling of envy as Cicero himself. The stories which have gone about of

a connexion of a different kind, have been devised by some stupid

fellow. Brutus had fought on the side of Pompey at the battle of

Pharsalus, and Cæsar immediately afterwards inquired if any one knew

what was become of him; on this Brutus wrote to Cæsar, who being quite

rejoiced to see that Brutus wished to live, fully trusted him, and gave

him the government of Cisalpine Gaul, where he greatly distinguished

himself.

Cassius was considerably older than Brutus, to whom he was related. He

was a good officer: he bore a very high character in the army; and he

had as _quæstor_, after the death of Crassus, held Syria against the

Parthians: yet he was not better than the common run of Cæsar’s

officers. He too had been in the ranks of the Pompeians, and when Cæsar,

as he was pursuing Pompey, passed over to Asia, he was lying with a

squadron of galleys in the Hellespont. Cæsar boldly went in a boat into

the midst of his fleet, and asked him to go over to his side, which he

did. Cæsar pardoned almost all his enemies: even Marcellus, who had

mortally offended him, he forgave at the intercession of Cicero; and as

far as in him lay, he tried altogether to do away with the consequences

of the war. This year, Cæsar had appointed both Brutus and Cassius to

the prætorship, which in fact was a troublesome office, affording but

little gratification: the only honourable and lucrative prætorship was

the _prætura urbana_ which formerly was given by lot.[16] This latter

dignity both of them now tried to get. Cæsar gave it to Brutus, and this

caused a quarrel between Brutus and Cassius.

A meeting of the senate having been appointed for the fifteenth of

March, there was a report that the motion was then to be brought forward

to give Cæsar the crown. Cassius who both hated Cæsar of old, and also

wished to revenge himself upon him for not having got the _prætura

urbana_, made the first advances to Brutus, and sounded him as to

whether he would conspire against Cæsar: in the night, inscriptions were

left on Brutus’ tribunal and house, which bade him remember that he was

a Brutus. Brutus at once held out his hand, and agreed to be reconciled.

They enlisted several others, Cæsarians as well as Pompeians, a complete

fusion of parties having taken place. Two of the chief conspirators were

old generals of Cæsar, Decimus Brutus and C. Trebonius, both of whom he

had raised to high honours: they had served in the Gallic war, and had

been jointly commissioned to crush the noble town of Massilia. The

number of accomplices is unknown; but the conspiracy indiscriminately

comprehended people who had fought against each other at Pharsalus

(704). No proposals were made to Cicero; but it is a pitiful calumny to

say that his courage was mistrusted: to slander a great man in such a

way, is really shameful.[17] They might have been quite sure of his

courage; what they feared were his objections. Brutus had as fine a soul

as any one could have, but he was passionate; Cicero, on the other hand,

had arrived at mature age, and had become a sadder and a wiser man: his

feelings moreover were of such extraordinary delicacy that he would

never have betrayed his benefactor to whom he owed his life, a man who

had always behaved towards him in the handsomest and noblest manner, and

who had particularly distinguished him before the world as his friend.

Nor could the conspirators conceal from themselves, that the undertaking

which they were plotting could not but displease a wise man. Goethe has

branded the murder of Cæsar as the greatest folly which the Romans ever

committed; and never was a truer word spoken.[18] Hirtius and Pansa, two

generous and wise men who were well aware that the republic needed to

become settled, and not to be stirred up again, had advised Cæsar to

look to himself, and to keep a body guard; but he disdained to do this,

saying, that he would not wish to live, if he had always to think of

preserving his life. He knew well that Brutus might entertain such a

thought against him, and he spoke of it to his friends; but he would

add, that his health had indeed been too much impaired, and Brutus would

surely wait until that frail body of his had gone to decay. And it was

the general belief that Cæsar would soon transfer his power to Brutus,

as the most worthy to succeed him. It was while these things were going

on, that Porcia, when she saw that Brutus was harbouring an important

secret, and that he did not make her his confidante, inflicted upon

herself a deep wound with a knife. The wound brought on a fever, the

cause of which she hid from her husband; and it was only when he

repeatedly pressed her, that she at last disclosed it, thus giving him a

proof of her discretion. Cæsar went to the curia, although his own

forebodings, the dreams of his wife, and the prophecies of the Haruspex

had warned him of his death: Dec. Brutus basely enticed him thither. The

conspirators were at first seized with fear, lest their plot should have

been betrayed. Plutarch now beautifully tells us, how C. Tillius Cimber

forced his way up to Cæsar, and worried him with his importunity, until

he got angry; how Casca struck the first blow; and how Cæsar was

murdered by twenty-three stabs. He lost his life in his fifty-sixth

year, or after its completion.—I am not yet quite clear as to this

point; but the latter seems to me more likely, judging from the time of

his first consulship.—He was born on the eleventh of July, and died on

the fifteenth of March, between eleven and twelve o’clock.

STATE OF ROME AFTER THE MURDER OF CÆSAR. TRIUMVIRATE OF ANTONY,

OCTAVIAN, AND LEPIDUS. DEATH OF CICERO.

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